Chapter 4
Chapter Four
VANESSA
Somehow, I didn’t think the sex tape would resurface.
Which was dumb.
So dumb.
Lawyers and IT specialists—mine and his—had spent an abundance of time and energy scrubbing it from free from any easily accessible platforms, but there was no telling how many people had it saved in their cell phones or on their laptops, just waiting for a moment like this.
To further drag me down.
Was Bronx Boy—freaking Bernard— catching any real heat for what occurred between two legally consenting adults? Of course not.
If anything, he was being applauded for it.
Again.
Meanwhile, everything about my body, from my stomach to my thighs to my bodily fluids was being picked apart and analyzed, for the whole world.
By women.
Not just them, of course, but I wouldn’t front—it hurt so much worse seeing women who were visually identical to the majority of my fan base with the absolute worst to say.
All because I dared to be wanted by their wanna-be boyfriend.
It was sick .
And I was sick over it.
It was a tough decision, but I ended up arranging not to go on set as planned, even though I knew I was fucking up the schedule.
I just needed a little break, needed to not go to work surrounded by people who had no doubt watched me bust it wide open for everybody’s favorite rapper.
I just…needed a safe space.
And my house was exactly that—my sanctuary, stocked with any and everything I might need.
After I made my arrangements to not show up to work for the day, I’d gone back to bed, so emotionally drained that it didn’t even take much for me to fall asleep.
When I woke up, I’d slept away most of the day.
My phone was filled with all the same kind of notifications I’d woken up to when the interview clips dropped—the people who gave a shit about me checking in. My PR team was already hard at work, had already released a statement I didn’t even see before it was posted.
I wanted it that way.
My biggest wish was that none of this was happening—the closest I could get was playing pretend.
It’s not a big deal.
People have seen sex before, it’s fine.
You’re going to be perfectly okay.
Shit.
That last one was pushing my ability to suspend disbelief a little too hard.
I dragged myself out of bed, still wearing the pajamas I’d changed into after my life blew up between getting in the shower and coming back out. It was supposed to be a good day—an interesting one at the very least, and then…sex tape leak happened.
Wonderful.
I’d already been nervous about the hot-as-sin hate fucking Alec and I were supposed to portray on screen. While I was worried about feeding into the all she’s good for is sex narrative, Charlotte’s writing was so masterfully fluid that it didn’t feel gratuitous.
It just felt like…what happened.
It wasn’t about putting something there for shock value—it actually served the story.
So I was okay with it.
Especially being paired with Alec, who had a behind-the-scenes reputation of being super respectful and professional. I’d talked through my concerns with Teagan, with Ellie, even with Charlotte, and together they helped me wrap my head around it.
Even embrace it.
I wasn’t so sure now.
My stomach was screaming at me to eat something, so I dug around in the fridge a bit before settling for a premade salad. I sat at my kitchen counter with it, shoveling the subtly dressed vegetables and cheese in my mouth one bite after the other as I stared at a much more enticing option.
The bar.
I’d promised myself I’d stop drinking my feelings—pouring it up in social settings was a whole different thing than drinking alone to wallow in my emotions. Maybe if a glass of wine was the only thing on my mind, it would be fine.
But I was giving some strong consideration to leaving the damn salad on the counter and taking a bottle of bourbon to bed.
Why the hell not ?
If there were any occasion where it would be appropriate, certainly this was it?
I didn’t need much convincing.
I was already out of my seat, fork abandoned when my bell rang, pulling my attention in that direction as if I could actually see it from where I was.
“Give me a moment,” I said—to the bar cabinet—before turning to go in the other direction, to answer the door. “I’ll be right back.”
When I came to Vegas to film the show, I’d had the option of temporary housing—a cute little condo or something that I could easily leave behind once we were done. But I was a big believer in…not necessarily manifesting, but moving in a way that was purposeful.
Once this show was done…I wanted to work on another.
I wanted to write one.
I wanted a deal with WAWG studios.
And with them being stationed in Vegas, it made sense to make sure I had a space for myself that was always clean, comfortable, and accessible.
And safe.
So instead of a temporary solution, I’d made the choice to purchase my home, in a beautiful, gated neighborhood—the same neighborhood a lot of other Black celebs in Vegas had gravitated to.
I wasn’t expecting visitors—had actually made it clear to a couple people, including my PR team, that I preferred to be left alone right now.
But whoever was at my door must have some sort of clearance.
I played a little guessing game with myself as I headed in that direction, wondering who it might be. When I arrived at the door and could peek at the screen connected to the doorbell camera, my eyebrows shot up in surprise.
That was not who I expected.
I blew out a heavy sigh, hesitating as the bell rang again. I was sorely tempted to pretend not to be home, already sensing this wasn’t about to be a quick visit.
Instead…I opened the door.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, planting myself in the door frame, and not pulling it all the way open.
Alec’s lips parted in surprise—likely because of my tone—but he recovered quickly. “I…was worried about you, after you didn’t show up today,” he explained. “I sent a text, but you didn’t reply.”
“So you thought…I wanted you to show up unannounced?”
“It sounds bad when you say it like that.”
“How would you say it?”
He smiled.
Shit.
Those pretty white teeth were a damn weapon.
“ I would say…I came bearing gifts, but it would’ve been if you hadn’t answered because you didn’t want to see anybody. I would’ve just left it at the door.” He pulled a hand from behind his back, holding up a beautiful, tiny gift bag…from one of my favorite stores. “I hope it’s not weird,” he explained. “But you said it was your favorite perfume, and I…thought it was probably something people rarely gift you, since they assume you would just get it for yourself. But when you told me about it, you said you were running low, but you hadn’t had time to grab another bottle, so…I’m sorry people are fuckin’ terrible?”
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
I thought about the bottle upstairs on my vanity tray with maybe three or four pumps of the fragrance left. I’d been kicking myself for not replacing the bottle sooner, because there was no way I was showing my face at any stores of any kind, any time soon, and would have to just go without it.
Or…I would have had to go without it.
“That’s…really sweet,” I admitted, accepting the bag. “Um…you wanna come in?”
He shrugged. “I don’t have to. I understand not being in the headspace to have people around, I just…wanted to do something nice. Since all this shit is kinda my fault.”
“It’s not your fault people are the worst,” I said, stepping back from the door to open it wider. “Seriously…come in.”
I didn’t have to tell him again.
He seemed a little uncertain about it, but he stepped past me into the door, waiting for my lead before venturing further after I’d secured the lock.
“Sorry about ignoring your text,” I said, pushing out a sigh. “While I do believe none of this is really your fault…I was kinda mad at you,” I admitted, putting the gift bag down on the counter. “I mean…I know I’m fine, but damn!”
Alec laughed. “See? It’s my bad. But in my defense, you are… shit, never mind.” He shook his head, turning away from me to look out the big window into the backyard.
Obviously, I knew what he’d been about to say, but I appreciated him avoiding both stating the obvious and potentially making things awkward.
More than they already were.
“Sorry for not showing up today,” I said, prompting him to turn back in my direction. “It was unprofessional—an actor is supposed to be able to push through the personal shit, right?”
He shrugged. “Nobody is tripping about it, Van. It’s rough being in the spotlight, especially when it’s not really our own doing. We’re all on your side,” he assured. “Everybody makes it work—Shaw and Elodie were already due on set a bit later, so we moved some stuff around and I filmed with them. It’s not something anybody is looking to hold against you.”
“I hear you, I do.” I sighed. “It just…it almost feels like a sign. Like it’s stupid of me to even try to be something outside of what people insist I should be known for.”
“Fuck that .” He waved me off. “They don’t get to decide— you get to decide. I mean, I know it’s not quite the same, but…believe it or not, I can kinda relate. People have always put me in a box too. And…for a while, I played into it. Used it to my advantage. And it’s not like it’s…pretending, you know? It is who I am to a degree, it’s just not…the whole story. Just like the fact that you’re sexy isn’t the whole story with you.”
What if it is, though?
“Don’t look like that.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Don’t look like what?”
“Like you’re thinking, but what if it is though ?”
My heart shot up into my throat, completely thrown by the pinpoint accuracy he’d seen right through me with. I shook my head, refusing to maintain any sort of eye contact with him, because how could I, after that?
Instead of saying anything, I headed for the bar—my original destination before he showed up at the door. “You want a drink?” I asked.
“Nah, I’m good.”
With the bottle already in my hands, I turned to look at him. “You’re gonna make me drink alone?”
“I won’t judge you if you do, but I would be remiss if I didn’t ask…do you just want a drink, or is there something you’re trying to get away from?”
I stared at him for a moment, then put the bottle down, stepping away from it. “Fuck it then, I guess,” I said, unable to keep back…not frustration, something else.
Something I couldn’t pinpoint.
Alec’s eyes went wide. “Hey, my bad. I wasn’t?—”
“No, it’s fine,” I interrupted. “I just…I don’t know. I’m in a weird space.”
He nodded. “I get it. Look, Nolan said you’ll be back on set tomorrow, right?”
“Uh…yeah?”
“Cool. I’m gonna get out of here then, let you kinda…process. That’ll probably help you be ready to go right into getting these scenes together tomorrow.”
“Or we can do it now?” I rushed out, surprising myself with the urgency of my words. “I mean…run through the lines, at least,” I clarified.
Did I really want to run through the script with him right now?
Hell no.
But I also…didn’t really want to be alone.
“I always get two hard copies of the episode—in case I misplace one, you know?” I added, trying to further convince him not to leave.
Just like when I asked him to come in, he didn’t seem all the way certain, but he took the script I handed him from the organizer I kept on the counter, opening it to find his part before he looked at me again.
Expectantly.
Shit.
I hurriedly flipped to my own first lines, taking a deep breath as I surveyed the words on the page.
As if I didn’t already know them by heart.
Suddenly, nerves flooded my belly, and for some reason, I couldn’t myself to even start the first line, I was so overwhelmed with that unnamed emotion that I couldn’t do much of anything other than just… choke.
“I…I’m sorry,” I stammered, dropping the script onto the counter as I shook my head. My eyes burned with unexplained, unprompted tears as I took a few steps back. “You probably should go, ’cause um…I’m kind of a mess?”
“No, you’re not,” he immediately responded, his eyes filled with empathy that killed my ability to hold those confusing ass tears back. Before I could even wipe my face, he’d already approached, enveloping me in an embrace that was just…
Exactly what I needed, somehow.
As embarrassing as it was, I didn’t even bother trying to pull away, or even stop crying.
I just…let it happen.
I didn’t feel like playing into the untouchably confident, tough-girl exterior I had to display for the public, I just wanted to… be.
And Alec…let me.
There was nothing sexual about his embrace, no weird slippage of his hand, no too-tight hold, and it was beyond refreshing. We both knew he was attracted to me, but the fact that he hadn’t let that bleed into any of this interaction when it so easily could’ve.
Well…
That was sexy to me.
I knew better than to pull away from crying into his chest to look him in the eyes—I knew exactly what it would do to us.
To him .
But…in the moment, pressing myself into him, tipping my mouth into perfect position, sending him an unspoken command to kiss me just seemed…natural.
So I did.
And he did.
So soft at first I really could’ve imagined it, but when I didn’t move away, he did it again. Just a little more pressure, lips seeking permission I easily gave in order to get the kind of firmness I really wanted.
Lips.
Tongue.
His hands actually slipping down to my ass this time, pulling me into his steadily growing erection. I moaned against his mouth, caught just the slightest bit off guard by the prominence of it, which he must’ve taken in a way that wasn’t how I meant it.
“ Shit ,” he muttered as he pulled back, pulling his lip between his teeth. “Van, I?—”
“It’s fine,” I quickly told him, putting a hand to my mouth, still a little surprised. “I mean…I wanted you to do that, so?—”
“I know,” he said. “But still, we…”
“Probably shouldn’t?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I’m gonna go.”
This time, I didn’t stop him.
Because as much as I might want the distraction, I knew I shouldn’t take the chance of making things weird.
I definitely needed that drink now though.
And maybe a lukewarm shower.